


Everything to Win, Together

by Java_Blythe_Peralta



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Defending each other, F/M, Fluff, Siblings live, dimya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/pseuds/Java_Blythe_Peralta
Summary: Modern AU: Dmitry was not born into the life of wealth and privilege that Anya was, and it takes some getting used to, especially when some people think he should never be there to begin with. Soon enough, however, he realizes that it isn’t what they feel that matter, but what Anya thinks. Basically just some modern Dimya fluff.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Everything to Win, Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Anastasia fic so I hope you enjoy. I decided there wasn't enough married Dimya fics around so I decided to write one myself. It is basically just fluff.

It is early morning, too early for the phone to be ringing. Anastasia groans, rolling off of her human pillow and over to the nightstand to pick up her phone. 

“Hello?” She says in a groggy voice, her bedmate grumbles something indecipherable and stuffs their head under a pillow.

“Anastasia!” Comes a chipper voice from the phone. “Good morning!”

“Maria,” groans Anastasia, “it’s not even 8, and it's a Saturday morning!”

Saturday mornings were significant for Anya and her husband Dmitry, AKA the exhausted bedmate aforementioned. They both worked regular jobs during the week, Anya as an editor at a publishing firm and Dmitry as an elementary school teacher. Saturday mornings were one of the only times they had to sleep in and enjoy each others leisurely company. 

“Yes well, the ball is tonight and I’m sure you have nothing to wear.” Says Maria, Anya’s slightly older sister. 

“Maria, as I have told you before I do not need a new dress every single year. I’m just going to wear the same purple one from the last two years.”

“Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, you shall do no such thing!” Exclaims Maria. Anya’s sisters have always been far more invested in the wealth and society of her family than Anya herself. “It was humiliating enough last year,” adds Maria, “when you wore that dress for a second time. I will be there at 10 to pick you up.”

“No Maria, I can’t, I don't need a new dre… Maria? Maria?! MARIA?!!” Her sister has hung up. “Ughhhhhh.” Anya sighs flopping back on the bed. 

“What did Princess Maria want this morning?” Mumbles Dmitry from under his pillow. Anya ignored his princess joke for once. 

“She is determined that I will humiliate the family if I wear the same dress a third year in a row, so she is taking me shopping at 10.”

Dmitry says something indistinguishable, and Anya yanks the pillow away from his face. “What was that?” She asks.

“I said, we wouldn’t want that.” Dmitry says, blindly grabbing for his pillow. Anya holds it out of his reach. 

“Well, I don't have any choice now.” Anya sighs. “I was looking forward to a leisurely morning with you, it feels like we haven’t seen each other at all this week.”

Dmitry rolls over, hoisting himself above her, “Then I guess we’ll just have to make the most of the time we have.” He says with a wicked grin.

Anya laughs, “I guess we will.” She says as she wraps her arms around his neck and brings his lips down to meet hers. 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Two hours, one shower, and a batch of waffles later, Anya is standing in front of her and Dmitry’s apartment building waiting for Maria. At 10am on the dot her car pulls up at the curb. 

“Good morning.” Anya says, climbing into the passengers seat. 

“Good morning, Nastya.” Says Maria, all business. “We need to be quick about this, I have to help Nonna with setup before the ball, and I have to pick up Celine from the airport. She cut her trip short just to be here for me, isn’t that sweet of her?” 

Anya sighs, this is her sister. Talking a mile a minute, sharing every detail of her life without letting anyone else get a word in edgewise. “Its wonderful you have such a caring girlfriend.” Anya says. 

“Isn't it? And I’m so glad I finally told Nonna, she was just so supportive! It really was a huge load off.” Maria had been dating her girlfriend Celine for the last three years, but had only got up the courage to tell their grandmother a few months ago. “How are you and Dmitry? Is a daily job fulfilling?” Maria was an event planner and only worked with big name clients, and only on her own time schedule. 

“We are great.” Anya smiles, as she always does when she talks about her life with Dmitry. “The last few weeks have been so busy we almost haven’t seen each other. With this new book I'm working on, and my editing, and Dima coaching spring sports at the school, we haven’t had any time to ourselves in over a month.”

“That is a shame.” Maria says, before jumping back into another story about a high level client she is working with. They pull up to the dress store shortly after. “Here we go.” Says Maria as they head inside. 

Maria immediately finds a saleswoman and suddenly Anya finds herself shoved into a dressing room with six dresses in varying styles and colours. The first she tries on is a horrible lime green and doesn’t fit her right at all. The second is a pale pink, strapless, but Anya doesn’t like the colour on her. The next three are discarded in a similar fashion, until she reaches the last one. It is a red gown, elegant but simple. The strapless dress falls to just above the floor and the fitted bodice is decorated with minimal jewels. The skirt flares out just the right amount without being too flashy. Anya smiles and steps out to let Maria appraise the dress. 

“Mmmmm, I suppose.” Maria nods, “Are you sure the yellow one didn’t fit?” Anya just rolls her eyes and buys the dress. 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

When Anya gets back to the apartment she finds no sign of Dmitry. “Dima?” She calls, walking into their bedroom to leave the dress box. “Dima?” She calls louder, then she hears someone humming. She walks down the hallway and onto the little balcony to find her husband sitting there reading a book. 

“Hello.” He smiles, putting down his book and holding out his arms. Anya lets him pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her. “How was the shopping?”

“It went smoothly, considering Maria.” Anya says, laying her head on Dmitry’s chest. Dmitry laughs; he has grown to love, or at least respect, Anya’s siblings in the past few years but that didn’t stop him teasing them. 

“What does your dress look like?” He asks.

Anya shakes her head. “Have I ever shown you a new dress before I’ve worn it? I don't think so. You will see it tonight when I get ready.”

Dmitry groans in fake anguish and wraps his arms around Anya again. They both fall asleep. 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Much later Dmitry is standing in their living room waiting for Anya to come out of the bedroom. He isn’t prepared when she does. This happens to him every time he sees Anya dressed up, his mind goes completely empty except for her. The red dress is perfect on Anya. It highlights her hair, it is the exact shade to pair with her skin and it fits her perfectly. 

Anya smiles at his reaction. “Do I have your approval Mr. Sudayev?” 

“Always.” He smiles, walking up and wrapping his arms around her waist. “But I think this might be my favourite dress of all the ones you have worn.”

“What about my wedding dress?” She teases. 

“Mmmmm, that one too.” Dmitry says into her neck, he has learned over the years to not even try and kiss her lips after her makeup is done. He reluctantly pulls away. “We should get moving if we want to be one time.”

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

They arrive early, as always, and Anya parks in the back of her family home. When they enter the house they are immediately set upon by four energetic little people. “Auntie Anya, Uncle Dima!” They cry. 

Anya laughs and lifts up the two smallest children. They are her sisters kids. Anna and Vera are Olga’s daughters and Henry and Niko are Tatiana’s boys. It is these two boys who Anya has lifted up, Anna and Vera being too big now to lift. 

“Hello munchkins.” Dmitry says, hugging the girls as Tatiana and Olga walk into the room, followed but their respective husbands, Marco and Jack. All the siblings and in-laws greet each other before Nonna walks into the room, followed by the two remaining Romanov siblings. 

“Anastasia! Dmitry! Hello.” They both hug and kiss Anya’s grandmother. “You're all here now. Good good.”

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

The ball was in full swing now and Dmitry is chatting with some of Anya’s cousins when he hears someone say his name. He looks around, and finds the source. A group of distant relations of the Romanovs have congregated by the window and are apparently discussing him and his relationship with Anya, he wishes he could say this hasn’t happened before, but it has. When one of the wealthiest heiresses in the city marries a man with no connections, no money and no family to speak of, people are bound to talk. They were discreet about it in Anya’s presence, but they didn’t offer the same respect to Dmitry. 

“So that’s the boy she married?” One asks.

“Yes, yes.” Says another. 

“Doesn't look like much. What’s his name again?” Says a third.

“Darcy or Derek or Dmitry, something like that. It’s a shame Anastasia threw herself away on him. I’m sure that her parents never would have stood for it.”

“Indeed, it is a shame. I’m honestly surprised her grandmother allowed it, but I suppose Marie was always too soft.”

Dmitry lets out a humourless chuckle at this, you’d think they could have come up with some more original things to say after five years but apparently not. Just then he feels someone brush past him and Anya walks up to the circle of people who had been discussing him. He doesn’t even try to stop her, he knows better than that by now. 

“Excuse me.” Anya says in her sweetest voice, “I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing my husband and my marriage. I'm sure it is difficult for you to comprehend a life different from your own but I promise you it is wonderful. I would appreciate it if you did not presume to know how my parents would feel, or the rest of my family, they care about me and my happiness. Dmitry makes me happy and that is all that is important.” Anya turns, but then turns back quickly, “Also if you wish to be invited back I would suggest you quit discussing my family.” She smiles sweetly and turns away from them. 

Dmitry stifles a real laugh at the faces of the group as Anya walks away, and he is reminded of the first time she defended him: 

It was the first annual ball of their relationship. Anya and Dmitry had started dating, or re-dating I guess, about two months before. It had been 9 years since the accident and it was the first time that Dmitry was to meet Anya’s grandmother. 

The evening had begun calmly enough in Anya’s apartment. Anya was standing in her bathroom applying her makeup. Family gatherings had always been somewhat tough for Anya, especially since her parents had died when she was 15. Dmitry was pacing up and down the hallway. He was nervous, no scratch that, he was terrified. He had only ever met Anya’s siblings, this was the first time he would be meeting her famous Nonna. He didn’t know what the woman would be like. Anya’s siblings were kind, although the older two, Tatiana and Olga were a bit cold and wary around him now. Maria and Alexei had welcomed Dmitry back in an instant. 

“Dmitry,” Anya said, but he doesn’t hear her above his pacing and worrying, “Dmitry,” still nothing, “DMITRY.” 

He jumped, looking her way. “What?” He asks, startled. 

“Dmitry, what’s wrong?” She asks. 

“Nothing.” He Lies.

“Don't lie to me, Dmitry.” Anya says, her voice gone quiet and serious. “I know something is bothering you. For one thing you haven’t teased or joked with me all day, and two, if you pace any longer you are going to wear a hole through my floor.”

Dmitry sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I’m just nervous. I’m not meant for your world, what if they don't accept me? What if I don't fit in?”

Anya walks up to him and wraps her arms around his waist. “Dmitry, I am not going to pretend that you will fit perfectly into the kind of people that my grandmother and my sisters associate with. I am not going to assume they will all see you the way I see you but that does not matter.” She squeezes him tighter to emphasize her point. “That is not the reason I am with you. I am with you because you are one of the kindest people I know. You challenge me like no one else does, you support my dreams like no one ever has. If they can’t see you like that then that’s their fault.”

In that moment, with Anya looking up at him, her makeup half done, her hair messy, wearing nothing but a tank top and cutoff shorts she looks like the most wonderful, most beautiful, most incredible woman he had ever known. 

“Thank you.” He whispers, bending down to kiss her softly and sweetly. 

“Always.” She says, smiling up at him. “Now I have to get ready, and so do you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He mock salutes her and she swats at him as he runs down the hallway into her bedroom. 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

An hour later Dmitry is sitting in the living room on his phone, waiting for Anya to finish getting dressed. He hears her bedroom door click open and looks in that direction, and immediately looses all memory of who he is, how to breathe, and everything but her. 

Anya stands there wearing a silky blue floor length gown. The dress hugs every part of her and glitters in the light. Her hair is simple, twisted into a knot at the back of her head. Dmitry has never seen her in anything this fancy, and it almost intimidates him. 

“Well,” Anya smiles, “like what you see?” Dmitry can do nothing but nod. “I don’t like dressing like this, it's not my style, but Nonna appreciates it.” 

“I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” Dmitry says, walking up to her and bending to kiss her.

“Nuh, uh, uh.” Anya says, pressing a finger to his lips. “You cannot ruin my lipstick, I don't want my Nonna getting any ideas.”

Dmitry groans, but steps back. “Now let's go.” Anya says, dragging him out of the apartment. 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Arriving at Anya’s grandmother’s house, Dmitry gasps. It seems everything is surprising him tonight. The mansion, because there is no other word for it, is located behind a wrap around fence, a curving driveway loops in front of the house. Anya avoids this driveway all together, instead taking a side road around the house and parking in the pack. “I prefer to park in the back and slip in quietly, rather than make a grand entrance as Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov.”

Dmitry nods, “As your scared, shy boyfriend I appreciate this greatly.” He says, following her through the back door of the house. Almost immediately Anya’s sisters come running up. 

“Anastasia!” Exclaims Olga, Anya’s oldest sister. “You are late, the guests will begin arriving in less the half an hour.”

“I’m sorry Olga, traffic was busy today.”

“Auntie Anyaaaaaa!” The cry echos through the house and two blurs crash into Anya as she hugs them. 

“Anna and Vera! How are my favourite nieces?” Says Anya, trying to lift up both of Olga’s twin 4 year old daughters at the same time. 

“Auntie, we’re your only nieces!” Cries Anna. 

“Oh of course, how silly of me.” Anya laughs. 

“Girls, girls.” Says Olga, walking up behind them. “Auntie is needed right now, you will have to see her in the morning after the ball.” 

The girls pout but obey, waving goodbye to Anya they follow their mother upstairs. This is when Anya’s other siblings make an appearance. Tatiana and Maria walk in, closely followed by Alexei. 

“Nastya!” Maria cries, hugging her sister tightly, as Alexei goes over and high fives Dmitry. “And Dmitry,” she adds, “How are you? Ready for this chin dig?”

Dmitry laughs, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Eh, it won’t be so bad. As long as Maria can hold her alcohol this time.” Alexei says. Maria swats at him but Alexei dodges and runs from the room, almost knocking into his grandmother as he does. “Sorry Nonna!” He calls, still running. Marie just shakes her head and walks into the room. 

“Anastasia, darling! You have arrived at last.” She says, kissing Anya on the cheek. 

“Yes Nonna, I’m sorry we’re so late.” Anya says, returning the old woman’s embrace. “And may I introduce you to my boyfriend, Dmitry Sudayev; Dmitry my nonna.”

“Pleased to meet you Mrs. Romanov.” Dmitry says, shaking her hand.

“No, no, no. Call me Marie, please.” 

“Of course.” Dmitry smiles. 

“I like him already, Anastasia.” She says.

Anya smiles at Dmitry, “So do I.” 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

It's later and the party is in full swing. Dmitry isn’t sure where Anya went, her grandmother likely dragged her off to say hello to more people. Dmitry is at a loss. He know no one and doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wasn’t intending to eavesdrop, but he really couldn’t help it. 

“It’s a shame how the youngest Romanov girl has thrown herself away like that.” Says a man, fancily dressed.

“Yes isn’t it though.” Says a second man. “I’m sure if Nicolas were alive he would have objected and put a stop to it, but Marie has always been too soft to see the realities of what was good for her family.” 

Dmitry's ears burned as he heard these things but he quickly stepped away, not wanting to make a scene. Those men had known he was there the whole time they were speaking, he had seen them glance his way. He never wanted Anya to find out about this, she had respected these people all her life. When he turned around, however, he came face to face with Anya, and by the look in her eyes he knew she had heard every word. Unlike him Anya was not about to turn away, she stepped forward quickly and surely, her blue ball gown flowing around her. Dmitry tried to grab her hand but he wasn’t quick enough. She marched up to the three men who had been discussing them.

“Excuse me, Count Leopold, Count Alex, Sir Polonov,” She said. “I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing my boyfriend and my relationship, as well as my late father. Firstly my personal relationships are none of your concern. I are happy and that is enough. Secondly if my father were alive, my being with a good man and being happy would have been far more important to him than all the money and connections in the world. And thirdly I would ask that you refrain from discussing the matters of my personal life, especially when you are our guest.”

With that she turned on her heel and walked back to Dmitry, taking his arm and walking toward the dance floor. Dmitry leaned close and whispered in her ear, “You really didn’t have to do that you know.” 

“Yes I did.” She says, stopping and making him face her. “And don’t you dare say they were right. I have chosen my destiny and my family loves and supports both me and you. I love you, and I will defend you no matter what, as I know you will defend me.”

That’s when she realized what she said, and by the look on his face she knows he did too. 

“You love me?” He whispers, staring at her. 

“I…I…I…,” says Anya flailing. Then she straightens. “I love you Dmitry.” She says with confidence. 

Dmitry is shocked, how had he ever gotten lucky enough to have her fall in love with him, the poor orphan from St. Petersburg. He bent down and kissed her, quickly but firmly, an unspoken I love you, but he knew he had to say it back, he wanted to say it back. So he did. 

“I love you so much, Anastasia Romanov.” He says, kissing her again. Anya grins, bright and joyful. 

“Good.” She said, “Now come and dance with me.” She says, leading him onto the dance floor just as a waltz begins. Maybe this was where he was meant to be, no matter his background, he had Anya and he felt he was in the right place. 

Dmitry smiles at the memory. That had been almost 5 years ago now, he almost couldn’t believe it had been that long. Things had changed, but things had also stayed the same. One of these things was Anya grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the group who had insulted him. 

Dmitry grins as she pulls him out the side door and into the hallway. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind and leans into her, “You know, it's very attractive when you defend me.” He whispers, “especially when you call me your husband,” he says even lower, “and when you are wearing a dress like that.” He says directly in her ear, barely audible. 

He smiles when he feels her shiver against him and turns in his arms. “Is it now?” She says, and she looks into his eyes. Dmitry nods, again it hits him just how lucky he is to have Anya in his life. This amazing, strong, fearless, beautiful woman who he fell in love with all those years ago. 

“I love you.” He says, kissing her. “And thank you, as always.”

“I love you,” she whispers, “you’re welcome, always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I am thinking of making this part of a multi chapter fic, or maybe just a collection of one shots, so if you have any feedback I would love to hear it in the comments! Thank you!


End file.
